False Hope
by Anscombe
Summary: AU. He goes there, to that shop. He's considering it...seeing him, his papa. Yes, he's considering it. But should he? Won't the old man know him? He's standing somewhere outside, should he enter? Just pre-1x19


Hey guys, to put a long story short I have writer's block for 'A Son's Grief' so I thought I'd leave you guys with this little drabble (is it a drabble? Not sure..). Anyways this story is **based on the idea that August IS Baelfire **so if you get confused this is only of the POV of one person. It's kinda a back-story of sorts to the photos of August and Mr. Gold talking in the shop.

Enjoy!

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August…no, Baelfire stood outside the pawnbrokers.

Yes, not August Wayne Booth. Not today. Today he is Baelfire, the little boy who believed a beautiful lie, the little boy who wanted to believe in his papa, the little boy who believed in a false hope. The little boy with lost innocence…or is it lost? Was it lost…or was it stolen?

No, that didn't matter right now. No it didn't seem to matter as he watched the old man with the limp open up his shop. Or does he have a limp? Could be faking it?

Once again, his mind seemed to have wondered off. He knows it's only because he's trying to avoid the subject, what subject is that?

The decision to enter the shop.

It may not be a hard decision for most people. Actually, thinking about it Baelfire realized that everybody in this town makes that decision pretty quickly. Whether they are cowards like Dr. Archie Hopper used to be or brave like Emma Swan they seemed to decide just so simply.

But then again, not many people he knew were terrified of him yet extremely brave people. Yes he was scared but he refused to run. He was done running away from the monster under his bed. He knew that if the old man figured out who he was too early then it could cost him his sanity and his freedom. However, that didn't matter.

No, today he was confronting his past. Today he was going to remember how to be that child who broke his soul. Yes not his heart but his very soul. Everything he had ever felt as a child was, in some way, related to Rum- that old man.

He…he refused to say his name. Not because he hated it but because he promised himself he wouldn't call someone something they weren't.

And that old man who had come outside to turn the closed sign to open was defiantly _not _his dearest papa.

No, he couldn't believe that he was his papa. Maybe…he was in some ways, he knew for a fact that both he and that old man were extremely cocky, confident people. But he lacks love…he may have some of his papa's qualities (of course, he had not seen these qualities as they were hidden by his papa's constant fear) but he lacks a heart, he lacks a _soul_.

Yes…it was the one thing they both had truly in common, their souls. While his own was broken that old man had lost his completely. Baelfire twitched at that thought, that guilt, remembering that the old man had sold his soul for _him_.

He stole his soul for him.

That…made him wonder. Wonder if that old man would recognize him. That'd be pretty horrible he guessed, not recognizing the very person you sold your soul for. It'd be a little funny too…yes, funny in a horrible and cynical way.

August shook his head, he couldn't think that way. No he needed to remember how to be Baelfire and he knew Baelfire would _never _find that funny.

Oh whatever happened to that sweet kind child?

Oh wait...that old man happened, that old man and his selfish ways. So selfish in fact, he would give a child false hope just to make him smile. Thinking back, he realised how much of a sick horrible bastard he was.

Bastard...a word Baelfire didn't use. No he had learnt that from 'growing up' in this world.

Yes...growing up. When he got here the dagger lost most of its power. It allowed him to physically grow, to stop him being a somewhat prisoner to the object that kept him from the monster. He may never look as old as he really is but it's certainly better then looking like a teenager for eternity.

The dagger...the one line between him and the monster, it was a thin one at that, a very thin line indeed. He looked over at it; he had actually brought it with him. It was a risk for sure but he needed it...to...to feel safe.

Baelfire frowned at this, considering that he'll probably end up taunting the monster he might just actually need it.

The monster...? Wasn't he just thinking of him as 'that old man' just a few moments ago? He smirked, that he knew for sure, was Baelfire talking.

There were two sides to August W Booth. Two sides...one a forgotten child and the other a stranger. Yes...that was the best word for it, a stranger.

A stranger because he knew everything but he was an outsider. Despite knowing every event that has gone on in this town (well _nearly _every event) he had barely had anything to do with them, he was like a ghost which watched everything.

Perfect for someone who doesn't want to be found.

But now...now he must be found. Now he must be known...for her, for _Emma_. Emma Swan...the saviour of all, the hope. She needs him, she may not know it but she does...and he needs her. He wasn't a hundred percent sure if it was because she could be his true love (she was the first girl he had fancied in a very long time) or because he deeply misses his papa and wants him to get better but either way he needs her.

So now was the time to strike.

He needed to strike at the monster. Because no one can, no one knows what he knows. _No one_. So now he must go and taunt him. He must start the game; make him feel fear for once. Besides, he's been sure for a while that the old man has wanted to play a game for a while now. Baelfire was pretty sure that he had seen his spies watching him for quite some time.

Not that it mattered to him; it was just a good excuse to start playing should he decide to use it.

Looking at the shop again now, he could see that old man behind the counter. He guessed he was sitting and plotting what his next move was. Baelfire felt his heart sting, he wasn't really hundred percent sure he wanted to hurt him...

No! He couldn't think like that! He couldn't give in to him! No, he wouldn't let himself be tangled in that web. It was his job to unravel that web, his job...because no one else could.

He stood up straight and stopped leaning on the motorbike, now was not the time for second thoughts. Second thoughts were something that you didn't have time for in war.

This is war...yes, this is the final battle after all. Now was the time for him to make his move. It was the time for someone to attack that old man who appears as _god _to these people. Because, no one else could.

_No one else could..._

With that thought in mind he hid the dagger that jagged dagger with that old man's real name on. He took off his helmet and began walking over. Prepared for the battle he was about to begin.

The battle between father and son...

Suddenly, he was at the door. He looked up at the sign 'Mr. Gold's Pawnbrokers.' This seemed to make him sigh. Sigh because a very long time ago he promised himself he would never enter that shop...but yet here he was.

Still, now was not the time for regrets. It was time for action, time to make his move.

So, with that, he opened the door.

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I hope it was okay...:S

Review! :D


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